Can't fight it anymore
by nighttimerunner
Summary: "She picks it up, unlocks the screen and scrolls through her contacts until she finds his name – just like every night that she has been here. And just like every other night, she finds herself staring at his picture, but not brave enough to press 'Call'."


**A/N: This is an AU fic that takes place in the summer between 3x24 and 4x01, based on a prompt from cicinicole-14 on the castlefanficprompts Tumblr page.**

**Thank you, Katherine, for your patient betaing. Also, thank you for taking the time to teach me about the art of pacing and for solving the problematic sentences.**

**The amazing cover art is once again made by my muse and cheerleader Kbex9. Thank you for setting the much-needed deadline. Love you, baby. ;)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own them.**

**Prompt: Story to the song 'Need you now' by Lady Antebellum.**

* * *

_And I wonder if I_

_Ever cross your mind_

_For me it happens all the time_

Lady Antebellum - Need You Now

* * *

She feels so tired.

Tired of the nightmares, tired of every unexpected sound making her jump, tired of the constant pain. But most of all, she's tired of being alone. Her dad stayed with her at first, but she convinced him to return to the city after two weeks, insisting she was fine and that his clients needed him more than she did.

It was, of course, a lie. Back then, even the simplest of everyday tasks seemed impossible. But Kate felt like she was keeping her dad away from his life and she had always hated being a burden. She also thought that being alone would offer her the possibility to work through the events, get ready for the mandatory psych eval at the end of her sick leave.

Boy, was she wrong. There was no 'working through the events'. Instead, she was bombarded with flashbacks every time she closed her eyes or heard an abrupt noise. With her dad gone, the sounds of the old cabin and the surrounding nature seemed intensified. A sudden bird call or a squirrel scurrying across the roof caused her to scramble for cover behind the nearest furniture where she would sit shaking until she was sure the sound wasn't made by a sniper coming for her.

Gradually, though, she got used to the sounds of her surroundings. She thought that maybe she was _finally_ – after four long weeks – on the road to recovery.

That was before the thunderstorm.

* * *

It starts just as Kate is getting ready for bed. The first distant _boom_ causes her to drop the toothbrush and reflexively make a grab for her waist and the gun that isn't there. She grips the edge of the sink and stares at her reflection in the mirror. Breathing deeply through her nose a few times, she forces herself to calm down.

_Get a grip, Kate. It's just a thunderstorm. Nothing more._

She manages to finish brushing by repeating that mantra in her head, her hands shaking when she places the toothbrush on the counter. Kate makes her way to the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, her gaze drifting to the phone lying on the bedside table.

She picks it up, unlocks the screen and scrolls through her contacts until she finds his name – just like every night that she has been here. And just like every other night, she finds herself staring at his picture, but not brave enough to press 'Call'.

She wonders if he is still waiting for her call, or if he's given up on her.

Kate lifts her eyes from her phone to sweep around the room. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as the picture on the bedside table catches her attention. It's a candid photo of Castle and her in the middle of building theory at the precinct. Royce had taken the picture without them noticing and Kate found it in the envelope with his letter. It was like he had wanted to make sure she understood his point, as if his words weren't enough. _The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder, if only._

A clap of thunder, much closer this time, jerks Kate from her thoughts and her eyes drop once more to the phone in her hand. Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, Kate lets her thumb hover over the screen.

She promised herself that she wouldn't call him. Not like this. Not until she's better, stronger.

Someone worthy of his love.

But another flash of lightning cracks the last of her resolve and she makes the call before she has time to rationalize and talk herself out of it.

Her heart rate speeds up as she waits for him to pick up. The longer she waits, the more anxious she becomes. She counts the rings.

_Four… _

_He's probably asleep. _

_Five…_

_Or he might be out. _

_Six…_

_What if he's on a date? _

_Seven… _

_What if he's at home but has company? _

_Eight… _

_What if I waited too long?_

* * *

He sits in his office nursing a whiskey - his fourth or fifth, he isn't sure. His laptop sits on the desk in front of him, the screensaver blinking and he feels like it's mocking him. He told his mother he was going to write when he retreated into his office as she was leaving for a party. That was almost four hours ago but the document is still blank. He can't write because his mind is filled with questions. Questions that have plagued his mind these last four weeks. Questions that the fictional version of his muse cannot answer. _Why haven't you called? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you thinking about me? _

_Why haven't you called?_

He frowns at his phone on the table as if he could make it ring just by looking at it. Just like every night, he picks the device up and finds her name in the contacts. And just like every night, instead of pressing 'Call', he locks the screen, places the phone back on the table and goes back to staring at his screensaver.

Kate said she would call, so he will wait. Although, the waiting would be so much easier if he just knew where she was, if she's taking care of herself.

Then again, Josh is probably with her. Josh, the superhero wonder boy who can do no wrong. Who never put her in danger by sticking his nose in places he shouldn't have been looking.

Castle raises the tumbler to his lips and downs the rest of the drink, enjoying the way it burns his throat. It's a welcome change from the continuous ache of regret he feels every time he thinks about the funeral, how he should have moved faster.

_Yes_, she's better off without him. She must have realized that too and that's why she hasn't called yet, because she doesn't know how to let him down easy.

And suddenly he's angry.

Angry with her for stringing him along, making him wait just so she can "let him go gently". Angry with Josh for being the one who saved her life, because it made it so much harder to hate him. But most of all, he is angry with himself for not being fast enough, for putting them in this situation in the first place.

For not being the one who makes her happy.

He picks up the phone again and unlocks it, ignoring the little voice in the back of his brain saying that maybe he should wait until the morning to talk to her. But before he can make the call, the phone starts to ring in his hand, her smiling face appearing on the small screen. And even though he was about to call her just seconds ago, he now finds himself reluctant to answer, dreading the words he's sure she will say.

Finally, just before the call is dumped to the voicemail, he steels himself and answers.

"Beckett, what do you want?" The question comes out more harshly than Castle intended, but he just wants this over and done with so he can start focusing on the impossible task of getting over her.

His greeting is met with silence and a small part of him is glad that he has managed to shock her. But when the silence stretches on, he feels the anger give way to resignation and he decides to be the nice guy one last time and let her off the hook.

"Listen, Beckett, I kno-" Castle starts more gently, but can't get any further before he is cut off by a broken sob from her.

"Castle… I need you," she manages to choke out and just like that all the anger and resignation are replaced by concern.

"Beckett? Kate? Are you okay? Where are you? Are you hurt? Should I call the boys?" he shoots questions rapidly without really giving her time to answer any of them. Only when he stops to breathe, is she able to get a word in.

"I'm not hurt," she says simply, ignoring the pain in her chest and side. That's not what he meant by the question.

He seems to have calmed down a little, so she continues. "I'm at my dad's cabin. Upstate. Can… Could you maybe come over sometime this week? I know you must be busy with the book and everything, but I… I just really need to see you."

"I can leave in ten minutes," he says, already making a mental list of everything he needs to take with him.

"What's the address?"

"No, Castle, I didn't mean right now. It's the middle of the night and you have Alexis and Martha and the book and…" She protests weakly, when all she wants to do is to tell him to hurry up.

"Beckett," he cuts her off firmly, "just give me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can."

He can hear the relief in her voice when she acquiesces and gives him the directions to the cabin. He gets up from the chair when they hang up and immediately shoots out a steadying arm when the room tilts dangerously, reminding him of all the alcohol he's had that night. He tries to remember how many drinks he's consumed, but the fact that he's lost count tells him that he shouldn't be driving any time soon.

Cursing under his breath at the delay, he starts the coffee while he calls the car service - he needs the caffeine to sober up - and then hurries to the bedroom to pack. He fetches a small duffel bag from the closet and throws clothes haphazardly into it before going to the bathroom to do the same with toiletries.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and winces at what he sees – it really has been a long month. There's really nothing he can do about the bags under his eyes and he really doesn't have time for a shower or a shave. Scowling at his reflection, he grabs his toothbrush, squeezes a generous amount of toothpaste on the bristles and starts to brush vigorously. He wets his other hand under the faucet and tries to get his hair into some semblance of order.

Satisfied that he has done everything he can, Castle finishes packing and walks back to the kitchen. Anxious to get to Kate, he decides to wait for the car downstairs. So, he pours the coffee into a travel mug, makes sure he has everything and leaves the apartment.

The few minutes it takes for his ride to arrive, feel like hours.

When the vehicle stops in front of him, Castle hurriedly slides in and gives the address to his driver. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes and tries to relax, willing the drive to go quickly.

* * *

Kate steps out to the porch as soon as she hears his car pull up to the cabin, feeling eager to see him. She watches closely as he gets out, takes in the dark shadow of his stubble, the worn jeans and flannel shirt and his slightly hunched posture. He looks tired – just as tired as the image that greets her in the mirror every day – and she feels a pang of regret for not calling him sooner.

Castle gets out of the car and mumbles a distracted 'thanks' to the driver, who places his duffle bag on the ground before driving off.

She looks fragile.

It's the first thing Castle notices – the way she's standing on the porch, arms wrapped around herself. She's thinner than before, even the large hoodie she's wearing can't disguise that. But she still looks breathtaking – even under the weak porch light – and he can't take his eyes off her, unable to believe that she's so close. He picks up the bag and slings it on his right shoulder, takes a few steps towards her and then stops.

Suddenly he's unsure of what to do, how to behave.

"Hey," he finally says with a shy smile, moving his weight from one foot to another. For some reason he's feeling like a teenager and it must show on his face, because there's a hint of amusement in her voice when she answers.

"Hey. You found the place okay?" she asks and takes a few tentative steps of her own towards him.

He sees a flicker of pain cross her features as she moves. So, finding his feet again, he hurries to her before she descends the porch steps.

"Yeah. The navigation system helped. We probably would have been totally lost without it. I mean, at least I would have been. If I had been driving by myself, you know. I have no sense of direction," Castle rambles, not even really aware of the words coming out of his mouth. All his focus is on the woman standing before him – alive.

He's nervous, Kate realizes, and it makes her feel a little better. Because she's nervous too – doesn't really know what to say, how to behave – now that he's here.

He lifts his left hand towards her face, but then stops in mid-air and she sees his eyes are filled with hesitation. She steps closer – only a foot separating them now – and takes his hand in hers. She lifts it the rest of the way up to her cheek and hears him gasp quietly and then hold his breath as she leans her face into the warmth radiating from his skin. She turns her head slightly, places a small kiss on his palm and then, letting go of his hand, steps into him.

The breath he is holding comes out in a whoosh as she wraps her arms around his waist. He's sure she must feel the erratic beating of his heart where she rests her cheek on his chest. His arms encircle her thin frame automatically and he marvels at their height difference, the way she is tucked under his chin.

Even though he loves, _loves,_ her heels, this is so much better. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. He knows that, as a best-selling author, he should come up with a less clichéd metaphor.

At the moment, though, he really doesn't care.

He doesn't know how long they stand there holding each other, but after a while – could be minutes or hours – he hears her mumble something into his shirt. He pulls back a little until her eyes lift to meet his. She wets her lips and he waits patiently for her to speak.

Now that she's in his arms, he finds that he can wait forever if that's what she needs.

When she speaks, her voice is quiet, but clear.

"I'm glad you came."

He's speechless and just stands gazing down at her with a dumbfounded look on his face when, suddenly, she reaches a hand up around his neck and pulls his head down.

She kisses him and _oh_ it's so much better than the undercover kiss they never talk about and he could definitely get used to this.

She pulls away after a moment – entirely too soon in his opinion – and he can't help the small pout that forms at the loss of her lips. She chuckles softly at his expression and his pout melts away because her laugh is contagious and honestly one of his favorite sounds.

"It's kind of cold out here. Let's head inside where we can talk and… you know, not freeze," Kate says as she steps out of his arms.

He's about to pull her back – because he really isn't ready to let go of her yet – when she reaches for his hand and guides him towards the front door. But before she can open it, he tugs on their entwined fingers until she turns to face him again.

He swoops down and steals a quick kiss from her surprised mouth – just because he can – and smiles widely at her.

"I'm glad I came, too."

**The End**

* * *

**Thank you for reading. :)**

**Thoughts, questions, concerns?**


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